


Surviving the Apocalypse with a Sourwolf and my Best Friend's Dad

by RavenclawCipherOfCabinOne



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banshee Lydia Martin, Crossing the country, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, Gifset, M/M, Male Slash, Not Beta Read, Protectiveness, Road Trips, Survival, Travel, Werewolf Chris Argent, Werewolf Melissa McCall, Werewolf Sheriff Stilinski, Werewolf Turning, Werewolves Become Known, Zombie Apocalypse, hell hound Parrish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 15:22:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6475597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenclawCipherOfCabinOne/pseuds/RavenclawCipherOfCabinOne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a few years of being a prime example as a deputy, Stiles makes it into the FBI. He's working in D.C. when the freaking zombie apocalypse happens. He and Rafael team up and stick together to try to get back home. They come across Derek in their travels. Together the three do their best to stay alive. To not die by the elements, crazy/paranoid frightened people who are also trying to survive, hunger/thirst, and of course...not get bit/mauled/or infected by a zombie.  </p><p>When they make it back to Beacon...everything is different. The time of humans has passed, and the time of wolves has come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Journey

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for the spacing near the gifs...the formatting for it is weird for some reason.

_*Stiles Voice Over*_

_When you're the only one of your friends who is human, you come to think there is nothing in life that'll surprise you after a while. When you face down with hunters, psychotic werewolves, evil druids, killer Alphas, dark spirits, legendary beasts, immortal crazed scientists, and all the added trials of every day life..._

_You go into life, feet first, thinking you'll be ready for anything._

_When people talk about the latest horror movie, show, or book you just roll your eyes and smirk. Those people will call you a skeptic or a cynic, or question what the hell happened in your life to not be scared about the things that go bump in the night._

_It's not that you're not scared, cos damn if you're not. It's just that you don't let fear keep you down. To quote Four from the Divergent series, 'Fear didn't shut me down, it woke me up.' Those things that went bump in the night that scared normal people, were real threats to people that I loved. As much as I just wanted to close my eyes and pretend none of it was happening, it was. And people I loved and cared for were in the middle of the hot zone._

_So yeah, I thought I was about ready for anything._

_And truth be told, like many of us, we thought we finally settled into an easy and peaceful time._

_After high school graduation, a lot of stayed close to Beacon. It was McCall Pack territory and we all worked too hard to drop that title. I only went for a semester in college before Beacon took another hit of serial killings. I applied to the academy and became a deputy. Between my dad, Parrish, and I we managed to keep control from the law side of things. Deaton and Melissa helped on the medical front, along with Chris Argent who fell into a grey area._

_Everyone was soon coming back, finding their place in Beacon Hills. Even if it wasn't as direct in it's safety like my being a deputy, they all helped when the Pack was needed. We strengthen the effect of the pack. Fewer supernatural attacks until it was all very quiet. Alliances with Deucalion helped. As well as Braeden. Chris's hunter connections didn't hurt either. So when I got a call from Quantico to come in for my exams...I didn't feel guilty about leaving._

_That was...until it happened._

_Let me just state, for the record, even if I believed a Zombie Apocalypse was plausible, I never thought I'd be going through it with Scott's dad._

* * *

 

"How'd it go?"

"Two cans of tuna, a can of Sloppy Joe sauce, and four packs for teriyaki beef jerky." Stiles said as he looked through his backpack, opening it up to let the older man see.

Rafael McCall nodded, "And weapons?"

"A pocket knife, three kitchen knives that were part of a set I think, and a multi-tool screwdriver set." Stiles answered and then asked, "You?"

"There was a food delivery truck. Anything organic rotted but there was some stuff. Two 24 bottle cases of water, and three of Poweraid. We have enough food to get us through for a while."

"Just enough to the next town at least. But we're not going anywhere until I can replace a few parts to the Jeep." Stiles told him.

Knowing that he can't make the case of switching vehicles and to not waste any more time, Rafael nodded. "Alright...but we don't have that much day light left. We look around for parts for another hour and then we head back to base. If we don't have everything by the end of today, tomorrow will be dedicated to finding those parts and siphoning enough fuel to get us away from this city. Alright?"

Stiles nodded. "Meet back at base in an hour then?"

Rafael nodded and the two headed in different directions.

* * *

 

After making sure their supplies were secure and all the parts that Roscoe needed were safe, Rafael and Stiles head to their chosen base camp. Inside they double checked to make sure everything was clear before they began to barricade themselves inside. Once they were confident the doors and any windows were boarded and blocked, they settled down and had something to eat. Their plan had been the same since the beginning. Get to Beacon alive and in one piece. Being as far away as they were, they needed to be smart with their food.

They each had just one can of tuna and a strip of beef jerky.

"I'll take first watch tonight." Stiles offered.

Rafael shook his head. "This place has been quiet for a while. Any activity is on the other side of town...plus we covered our tracks. And we're barricaded in. We'll set an alarm and both sleep. If we want to have energy to find all the things for the Jeep, then we need all the rest we can get."

Stiles looked uncertain but then a yawn broke out of him and he reluctantly agreed. It was decided that batteries wound be used for flashlights and other important situation and emergencies. When they broke into a department store to loot supplies, Stiles grabbed a handful of sport/wrist watches. Watch batteries living a very long life, and they each had two on each hand. They set an alarm for three different times. Dawn, mid-day/noon, and dusk.

It was very easy to lose track of time these days. Every few days, Stiles makes a sun dial to make sure their watches are right. But just don't ask him how many days it's been. He's lost track of those.

* * *

 Derek slammed his hand into the bottom door of a station wagon's trunk. 

_ _

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"That's it..." he let out a shaky breath. "I'm losing it. Hell, maybe I've already lost it!"

It was insane of him to think he actually caught the scent of someone familiar anyway. Everyone he knew was back in Beacon. As far as he knew, there wasn't anyone out there on East Coast but him. Whatever he thought he smelled, it was all in his head. He's been alone too long. Without proper rest, food or water, and the smell of rotting flesh in his werewolf heightened sense of smell...it was all just...it was wearing him down.

He roamed around for a while.

Part of him thought about... _opting out_. He thought about doing that more times than he was willing to admit. With the guilt he's carried before all this happened made it even easier. But he could never go through with it. His animal instincts always kicked in and pushed him towards an animal's main goal. Survival.

He was about to head back to the shit-hole he's been calling home for the last couple weeks when the wind changed direction and he caught the scent again. He took big whiffs of air. He smelled a lot of the same. Death and destruction, chaos and gun powder. But hidden beneath or between or a mix of all that...

"Stiles..."

Derek ran as fast as his legs would carry him. He dodged corners and made sharp turns, leaped over stuff but he finally saw it.

Dented, rusty, but still as blue and beautiful as he remembered.

But no Stiles in sight.

That made Derek worry. Was Stiles even alive? Or had he been out here in this shit-storm and died along the way and someone just jacked his Jeep?

No!

Derek shook his head and refused to believe Stiles was dead. Looking up to the sky he saw that it was getting dark. The Walkers became more active at night. By now people have learned the basic habits of these things and what to do. When it gets dark you hunker down in a place you make sure no one can reach you. That's what Stiles did, he told himself. He's fine and secure, and waiting for morning to come to his Jeep and move out.

Opening the Jeep Derek reassures himself of his mental ramblings, nearing pleas, with noticing how fresh Stiles's scent was in his Jeep. He's been around it recently and that gave Derek a comfort like nothing before. He climbed into the back and rummaged through the things there. He found a piece of clothing. It was dark from dirty and long wear, holes and tears every so often, as well as different color string that patched up even more holes. He lifted it up to his nose and took a deep breath, and nearly got high off of the calming scent of _Stiles_ that came off of it. If he was right, and he was over 90% sure he was, this was the same red hoody Stiles has used plenty of times during his adventures in Beacon.

It made him smile.

He used it as a pillow as he laid out in the back seat. Closing his eyes he rested for maybe an hour or so...time was tricky these days. But he was restless and anxious to see Stiles again. He let himself focus on the Jeep. Breathe in and out Stiles's scent. But as he took into account all he smelled inside, he noticed something from the front and the back. The amount of smells that were similar to a mechanic's garage. Break oil, anti-freeze, gasoline. Derek raised an eyebrow before getting out. Walking to the front of the Jeep he popped the hood and used his werewolf eyes to assess the damage.

And there was damage.

No wonder Stiles was still there. The Jeep wouldn't make it far in this condition.

Looking up at the sky Derek knew it was dangerous to be out, even as a werewolf. But if he at least began repairs, it would make getting the Jeep up and running tomorrow go faster. The sooner that's done, the sooner he and Stiles can begin their journey home.

Derek pulled the hoody over his head and let out a sigh of relief. It was... _tighter_ than he'd like, but it was comforting. Once he looked at the damage done and what needed fixing, he turned on his werewolf eyes and began to seek out cars he knew would have the parts needed. Going here and there to look for the tools he needed to get things done.

He ran into four zombies.

They weren't a match for his werewolf strength, but getting them to not attract the attention of others to Stiles's Jeep was annoying.

All the while he was out searching for tools and parts, Derek kept his nose and ears out for Stiles, hoping to catch a hint, but...no. No luck.

But that's okay. By morning he'd see Stiles. Right now he'd concentrate on the Jeep.

* * *

 

"So, you got a plan?" Raf asked as he and Stiles gathered their gear and headed to the Jeep.

"Yeah. I know which cars I want to look through to get the parts we need. I remembered where most of them are from our scouting yesterday." Stiles replied.

Both were armed with their agent standard hand guns, though they each had a few more hidden on their bodies...and well, two bigger guns not as well hidden poking out of their bags. They were armed, but low on amo. Plus considering noise attracts the zombies, they only used them as a last resort.

They were nearing the Jeep when Raf motion them to stop. Stiles looked at him questionably, and the older man pointed to the Jeep. Concentrating hard, Stiles tries to see what Rafael was spooked about.

Then he saw it. Movement.

"Oh, hell no! No damn Walker's gonna be making a mess in Roscoe!" Stiles exclaimed as he marched up to his Jeep.

" _Stiles_!"

Stiles reached into his side for a pocket knife, "Don't worry, I won't make any unneeded noise."

Reaching for the door handle, Stiles raised his knife with Rafael standing behind him, gun at the ready, and then he pulled. What he saw was...

" _Derek_!?"

"Ugh...Wha- _Stiles_?!" Derek jumped out of the Jeep and stood in front of Stiles.

"Oh my god! Is it...Oh my-" Stiles was about to jump on Derek but Rafael yanked him back.

Stiles looked at him questionably but Rafael didn't lower his gun from Derek's head.

"Whose blood is that?" Rafael demanded.

That's when Stiles noticed all of Derek and not just that _Derek_ was there and not dead or undead or unaccounted for. He was as dirty as any person they came across, but the blood was present and it couldn't be ignored. Worry flared in Stiles like a wild fire.

Derek looked down at himself before looking back at the two. Though he spoke to McCall he was looking at Stiles. "Walker. I ran into a few while I was out last night."

" _What_? Are you _crazy_!? You're not supposed to be out a night with those things out there!" Stiles exclaimed.

"I saw the Jeep. Checked under the hood. It needed repairs. I got to work on it."

"Were you bit?" McCall demanded.

Derek nearly laughed at the question, but if he somehow kept any sense of humor after his family was killed, the zombie apocalypse killed whatever remained. "No. I don't have a gun...when I have to kill a Walker, I have to unfortunately get close."

Rafael and Stiles shared a look and Derek sighed before he began to strip. He kept his shoes on but he dropped his pants and pulled over his tank top. Stiles averted his eyes, but McCall looked because he was looking for any bites or scratches. When he didn't see any he let out a sigh of relief and lowered his gun. "What progress have you made on the Jeep?"

"Other than some fuel, I think I have it as fixed as I could get it with the thing I had...it can get us out of town anyway. Can we...I mean, can I..."

Stiles lunged himself at Derek and hugged the hell out of him. "Of course you're coming with us! We're going to get home...the three of us. We're going home."

* * *

"I wish you'd stay in the Jeep and let us handle it." Derek sighed as he grabbed the cables and began to connect them to their proper place.

_ _

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"And I wish you'd understand that this is my Jeep and I will oversee anything done to it. Plus...it's night. We all need to be alert." Stiles told him while he made adjustments.

"My senses can alert us if there's any Walkers heading our way. And considering we're out int he open, the inside if the safest place for you." Derek told him.

"It could also work as a way to trap me. And there's three of us, Derek. We have to work as a team. No need to overexert yourself. You don't have to woo us...so don't go wasting any useful energy, okay?" Stiles told him in turn.

He's seen it happen before in some of the groups they've passed. Those were led some groups, expected new members to show their worth. Sometimes in reasonable ways, like gathering food or supplies. But also some of the darker stuff like...putting out as a sex slave.

"You guys ready?" McCall called from the car they hotwired.

Stiles nodded to Derek, who nodded back, before getting into the driver's seat and calling out, "Ready! Go!"

* * *

 They drove for hours and hours.

Every six hours or so, switching drivers. With there being three of them now, they dared to drive at night as well. One would sleep in the back while one drove and the other kept analyzing their map.

Due to some major road blocks caused by the chaos of the beginning of the apocalypse, they sometimes had to make U-Turns and use bypasses and side roads. One time they ran out of gas in the middle of the road with no other cars in sight to siphon fuel from. Not wanting to risk leaving anyone behind, they grabbed their important gear and walked seven miles before they could get gas.

They made it a few states before Derek, with the most mechanic knowledge of the three, told them the Jeep couldn't take much more without some tuning. With all the progress they made in getting West, they were all disappointed by the stop, but Stiles understood, and so did McCall.

The dynamic was a little weird, Stiles noticed it. He knew what it was too. He's always been aware that he's never really been an Alpha Male. Being assertive and dominating in some respects, still didn't give him an Alpha personality. Something that both Derek and Rafael had. Their survival instincts were all the same and kept them on the same page so far, but Stiles was beginning to notice how the others reacted rather... _off_ , to the other's suggestions.

Stiles made sure to intervene before anything got ugly. Like when they arrived in a town that seemed to be deserted. Derek and Rafael began to argue about what place they'd bunker down in. Why hospitals and clinics were a bad idea even if they probably had their own generators and some much needed medical supplies, to the school which may have much needed supplies and room for them to be safe for a few days and they could hide the Jeep. 

Luckily he was driving, so he ignored both of them.

He knew where they needed to go. It took some driving, but they finally arrived.

"Sheriff's station?" Rafael asked.

Stiles drove into the parking lot which had a tall gate which he mentally told himself to come lock if and when the inside was secure. When he found a place to park, he shut off the engine and got out to stretch. Rafael and Derek got out too and looked at Stiles expectantly.

Rolling his eyes, Stiles began to explain while heading to the trunk for his stuff. "The hospital's too dangerous. Any place that was once used to store dead bodies is dangerous. What we need are tools and weapons. This is our best shot to get weapons and other emergency items and tools. Maybe even find a working radio and find other people. Sheriff's stations, like hospitals are equipped to survive dangerous situations. Zombie apocalypses were always a joke that should have, in hind sight, be taken more seriously, but my point is, this is were we're more likely to find some of the good stuff. Amo and weapons, food and water, clean clothes..."

They followed Stiles inside and they did a thorough sweep, with Derek nodding to Stiles that he didn't hear anyone other than them. Stiles ran outside and locked the gate and did a perimeter check with Derek and secured all sides, as well as any vehicle left on the lot.

Back inside, Stiles headed straight to the locker rooms and turned on the water. He held his hand under the stray for a moment and then he smiled brightly at the other two, "We got hot water!"

" _What_? No way." Rafael said breathlessly as he went to see for himself. And yes...that _was_ hot water. "But how? Power went out of this place...months ago!"

"I told you. Sheriff's station, like the hospitals are equipped to survive and remain alive, even after an emergency. Granted, before that was a mega storm like a tornado or hurricane...or a lasting black out." Stiles's face darkened a bit before he snapped out of whatever thoughts and looked back at the other two. "This place has it's own generators and propane lines. I don't know how long we'll have it, but we should enjoy while we can."

* * *

 "Find anything?" Derek asked McCall.

"Guns. Lots of them...not as many as there should be, but more than enough for all of us." He replied.

Derek looked around the armory and nodded, seeing gaps of where weapons used to be. "And amo?"

"We got plenty of that too. _You_ find anything around this place?" McCall asked while he motioned his finger in a circle.

"Some boxed food. The sort you find for a can drive." Derek mentioned, pointing towards the direction. "We have enough canned food. Plus water you and Stiles got from the city. And the one from here looks clean enough."

"I'd still feel safer boiling it. Just to be safe." McCall stated.

Derek nodded. "After doing proper inventory, tomorrow I can head out and see if I can catch us some meat."

"You hunt?"

"Enough."

"Well...don't get over zealous. Our plan is to fix up the Jeep and head home. Stick to squirrels and bunnies."

* * *

 

"You looked stressed." Stiles commented as he entered the room Derek was in.

"Am I supposed to feel anything else?" Derek asked, and there was tension in his voice.

Stiles shrugged. "I...I don't know. I just...you normally try to keep it all well hidden. I'm wondering what has you like this, that it's visible for even me to notice."

Derek sighed, "Sorry...I just...you and me? I consider you my friend, but I don't make friends easily. I'm not even sure we are, but it's the closest thing I've got to a friend."

 

_ _

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stiles stepped forward and grabbed Derek's hand, "We _are_ friends, Derek."

That made the edges of Derek's lips twitch upwards. "I'm glad. Doesn't make it easier..."

" _What_?" Stiles pressed. Wanting to know, if it meant helping Derek.

"Why aren't you home? _Why_...why were you out there, with Scott's _dad,_ of all people?"

Stiles smiled sadly. With Derek's hand still in his, he pulled him along until they were in a conference/questioning room that had couches.

"Even though I was the only human, one who could walk away if I wanted to...it didn't feel like I could. Protecting Beacon would always be in my blood. For a while when I was a deputy alongside Parrish, I felt like I was doing something. Making a difference. But then the pack started coming back and...I wasn't doing as much anymore. I still was, but...in comparison, ya know?" Stiles shrugged. "Anyway...so at some point I sent in an application to Quantico. I knew it was a long shot. The amount of people they accept...comparing my qualifications against others who have had more...I didn't think I'd get in. But still...I hoped."

"And you got in." Derek said. "And you worked with McCall?"

Stiles shook his head, "No. But he heard my name being mentioned and well...his relationship with Scott and Melissa was getting better. Hell, even his and my dad's. I mean, it wasn't like we went out to eat or games or anything...but we acknowledged each other at work."

"So when all hell broke loose, you two paired up?"

"Not exactly. At first I had a desk job. I was slowly working my way into the field and it was in one of those instance when a suspect pulled a knife on me. He stabbed me and I had to be taken to the hospital. That's where I was when shit went down."

Derek's eyes widened and Stiles nodded. Hospitals were major hot zones when all this started. Either crawling with Walkers or army officials who were shooting up like crazy, letting panic rule them.

"I'm not sure _how_ he did it, I was still doped up pretty bad with meds, but he got me out. He managed to find us shelter but it wasn't easy. I couldn't be moved easily or quickly. People were terrified of infection, which is what happened to my wound. But Rafael didn't give up on me. He cleaned my wound and risked his life getting the antibiotics I needed. It wasn't easy, or fun, but I pulled through. And the rest...well, it's history."

* * *

  __

Stiles let the hot water run over his tired and achy body. If they were moving soon, it didn't really matter if he used up a lot of the hot water. Hot showers were a luxury and he won't know if this was his last. So he wanted to enjoy it and not think about a bunch of other things. Like the things he's seen and has had to do, or wonder if any of his friends are even still alive. Or if his dad-

The door to the locker room opened and he looked over to see who it was.

Derek, fully naked, stalked into the showers with his eyes on Stiles. They made eye contact, with neither of them blinking. Soon Derek was under the spray with him. Their bodies pressed together and Stiles felt that Derek was as aroused as he was becoming.

He closed his eyes as Derek did too and leaned in. He didn't want to think. Thinking only depressed him with all of the facts that were his reality. This? This was a good distraction though. One he planned to enjoy.

_ _


	2. The Arrival

Stiles let the hot water run over his tired and achy body. If they were moving soon, it didn't really matter if he used up a lot of the hot water. Hot showers were a luxury and he won't know if this was his last. So he wanted to enjoy it and not think about a bunch of other things. Like the things he's seen and has had to do, or wonder if any of his friends are even still alive. Or if his dad-

The door to the locker room opened and he looked over to see who it was.

Derek, fully naked, stalked into the showers with his eyes on Stiles. They made eye contact, with neither of them blinking. Soon Derek was under the spray with him. Their bodies pressed together and Stiles felt that Derek was as aroused as he was becoming.

He closed his eyes as Derek did too and leaned in. He didn't want to think. Thinking only depressed him with all of the facts that were his reality. This? This was a good distraction though. One he planned to enjoy.

The kissing began gently and tentatively. Almost scared of crossing some sort of line. But as the touches became more confident and kisses longer and passionate, they each let go of their inhibitions, things began to get hot and heavy. Derek pressed Stiles against the wall and rubbed up against him, Stiles moaning and rubbing right back.

The water pipe creaked and snapped Stiles out of the moment. His eyes widened and he pulled back, "Wait...wait..."

He was panting and looking around desperately, like a child who might get caught doing something that'll get him in trouble.

Derek was panting too, looking alert and trying to find the cause of the problem, "It was just the pipe...no one's used it in a while. It's bound to be noisy. There's no one but us."

"And _Raf_!" Stiles hissed. Then he looked at the entrance, "What if he comes in?!"

"Let him." Derek said as if it was nothing and leaned in to kiss Stiles again.

But Stiles pulled back and looked at Derek with a pout. "I'm serious, Derek!"

Derek sighed as he shut off the water. He kept himself close to Stiles, their bodies pressed against each others. "If it makes you feel any better, I came in here confident in some us time if you approved because he found a nearly full bottle of whiskey that should keep him busy for the night..."He looked into Stiles's eyes before pulling back, "Look, I know this may be out of the blue and maybe I just..." He let out a breath before stepping away. "I'm sorry. I was just so _relieved_ when I saw you...feelings of our first encounters, the tension and frustration...it all got mixed up."

"Derek, wait!" Stiles reached out and grabbed Derek's wrist and pulled him back. Wrapping his arms around Derek's neck, he leaned in and kissed him. "I want this. It's...it's not...okay, maybe it's a bit of a desperation and maybe one day we'll look back and think we were rushing something unsure but...it doesn't...we're not... _we_ have history. We're _not_ strangers. I...I can't promise love. But this is a comfort I think we'll both enjoy..." Stiles looked towards the door before looking back at Derek. "I know the world's changed, but..he's still my _best friend's_ father. It's... _weird_ , okay?"

Derek smiled slightly, glad he wasn't rejected and just made things hella awkward between them. "But we're both consenting adults. It doesn't matter if he hears or sees what we're doing..."

"I know. But still...let's not do this where he can watch or hear, okay?" Stiles asked. 

Derek kissed him, "The room we talked in, where you told me your story? It has a pull out couch and blinds."

"Perfect." Stiles replied and gave Derek a long, passionate kiss. Their erections had gone down in the moment of doubt and uncertainty, and they needed to get their second wind going. 

* * *

 

Derek laid Stiles on his back, Stiles watched as Derek closed the door and shut the blinds before coming back to him. He rested there, enjoying the view that was Derek. Even before the apocalypse or any of the shit that went down, Stiles wouldn't be able to deny how hot Derek was. He kept himself well maintained and fit. He would admit to himself that when he was in high school there had been more than one wet dream where Derek did what he was doing now. Derek to kiss his way down Stiles's body. From his lips down his jaw to his neck. From his neck Derek kissed, licked, and sucked on the skin that was available to him. He saw Derek's curiosity when he reached a few scars but the wolf held his tongue...or rather, used it for a much better purpose. Derek caressed and kissed the scars that Stiles obtained. Derek played with Stiles's nipples, sucking the nubs until they were hard. Then he trailed kisses and licks down Stiles's toned stomach until he reached his member. 

Derek stroked the base as he gave the head a few licks. He swirled his tongue around it, then licked along the vein down to Stiles's ball sack. He kissed and sucked one side into his mouth and sucked harder before repeating the action on the other side. Stiles arched his back some as he gripped at Derek's hair. Derek licked his way back up Stiles's shaft and licked around the head again before taking it into his mouth. He let the weight rest on his tongue, let his mouth form a perfect cradle for it then slid down the entire length. Maybe it was the desperation or the longing or the relief of knowing the other was alright. Maybe it was the security he felt being around someone familiar or the real hope of getting home, or maybe because it's been a while since they've both last had sex. 

Once Stiles was fully hard, Derek's mouth left his dick and turned him over. The Werewolf kissed his way down from Stiles's neck, down his spine, and down to his ass. Parting his cheeks, Derek began to open Stiles's hole with his tongue. 

Stiles gripped the couch tightly as Derek rimmed his asshole. Stiles had his eyes closed, overwhelmed by the sensation. He also figured that since he wasn't facing Derek, there was no reason for him not to rest his tired eyes. So he closed his eyes and relied a lot on his other senses, mostly hearing and touch. He heard a cap being flipped open, heard and envision Derek lube up his finger(with whatever Derek managed to obtain to use as lube), heard the cap shutting close. He felt the burn of the penetration and tensed up. Derek whispered sweet nothings in his ear and rubbed his back soothingly and used some of his werewolf abilities to take the pain away until he relaxed and then began to work him open with his fingers. Starting with one and all the way to four before Stiles heard the tube of lube being opened again. Soon Derek had his own cock lined up at Stiles's entrance. He reached to interlocked his fingers with Stiles's and began to push in until he was fully sheathed inside. 

He waited until Stiles adjusted, and as they waited he whispered more sweet words into Stiles's ear. Stiles gave a nod and Derek began to thrust in and out. It went like that until Derek seemed to find a rhythm but Stiles stopped him.

"What's wrong?" Derek panted. 

"Wanna see you..." Stiles begged. 

Derek pulled out and turned Stiles over and they shared a heated look before sharing a heated kiss as Derek entered him again. The thrusting continued, slow again at first, then faster and harder. When Derek hit his prostate Stiles opened his eyes wider and let out a loud moan. He gripped Derek's hair tightly with his fingers as they shared in a passionate kiss. 

They continued until they reached their completion. Stiles came first and Derek stroked him through it. When Stiles went limp, Derek pulled out and turned him over so Stiles's back was to Derek's chest. Easing back in, Derek thrusted until he reached his own climax inside of Stiles.

* * *

 

 

"Stiles?"

Stiles looked up as Derek entered the office he was in. He smiled gently at the wolf and gave a small wave. "Hey...how are the repairs going?"

"Alright. The station's garage had a lot of tools we needed to fix things more properly. We had to go outside the fences to a nearby mechanic garage for the right fluids. But in another two good days of focusing on the Jeep and we should be able to get to California without problems...you know, from Roscoe anyway." Derek explained. 

"And Raf?" 

"He went to shower. We avoided most Walkers we saw, but to get out of the mechanic's we needed to deal with some of them. Good news is that he knows I'm a werewolf now." Derek said, knowing that so far they've kinda been avoiding that. 

"How'd he take it?" Stiles asked, genuinely curious. 

"Well, I'm not as bad to look at as a rotting corpse, so there's that." Derek deadpanned, before grinning a bit at Stiles.

"I think he cares more about the smell than the sight. Those things are putrid. Wet dog is more bearable." Stiles grinned back before the two started to laugh lightly. 

Stiles moved to sit on the couch in that office and Derek followed his lead. They crossed the line with each other when they had sex, so Stiles felt comfortable leaning into Derek. When Derek wrapped his arm around Stiled to pull him closer, his throat welled up with emotion. In his hands he was caressing a discarded sheriff's badge.

"I'm sure he's fine." Derek said quietly.

"Right..." Stiles scoffed gently.

"I mean it, Stiles." Derek cupped his chin and made Stiles look at him. "I didn't know him long but in the time I did, I learned how strong he was. And resourceful. Plus...he raised you. If he's where you get it from, then I am more than confident he's doing well and keeping others alive and well, too."

Stiles's lips twitched into a smile at Derek's words, but then he looked frightened and insecure. "You sure?"

"Yes." Derek replied without hesitation. "He already knew about the supernatural, so he wouldn't be hindered by denial. He might have thought it was just a Beacon Hills thing for a while, but still did everything he needed to do to keep his loved ones safe. Your father, the pack...they have the advantage and I'm sure they're out there, safe. And hoping we are too."

Stiles leaned into Derek for an embrace, which Derek returned. The werewolf rested his head on top of Stiles and just enjoyed the closeness. The end of the world was a frightening place, but facing it with Stiles made it way more....bearable. 

* * *

 

"I think I want to take one of the police cars." Rafael said the day Derek deemed the Jeep finished.

" _What_? But...having the three of us in one car is ideal. One gets sleep, one drives, the other navigates!" Stiles protested. 

"But with our journey being what it is, we're going to need more space. For the supplies we've gathered but also the fuel. And your Jeep's space isn't going to cut it anymore." Rafael countered.

Stiles looked at Derek for his opinion. 

Derek looked between them before crossing his arms over his chest and saying, "I think he's right. Roscoe's ready for the trip. I'll look at whatever car McCall wants to take. We'll spend the rest of the day filling up tanks with fuel. We'll do inventory and then we pack up. Beacon is our destination and we want to get there in one piece. Stiles's Jeep has a radio, we'll tune it the cruiser's while going a step further and each of us taking one of the walkies from the inside. We'll shower, eat, and sleep here one last night and then we head out at dawn."

Rafael nodded. "Sounds good."

"Okay...but since we're breaking our dynamics then we have to be smart on the road too." Stiles added.

"Stiles, it's not like we'll be out of sight of each other." Rafael said.

"Yeah, but we can't get cocky now that we've got food, water, clothes, and tools. If the roads are clear, then we can risk driving at night. But no more than 48 hours. We stop to rest and eat and rehydrate at proper intervals." Stiles ordered.

The other two looked at each other and Stiles frowned before stating matter-of-factly. "It's funny how you two think it's a debatable option."

The two sighed in defeat.

Stiles smirked, "Glad we agree."

* * *

It almost seemed sad to leave, but they had a mission.

They did a final sweep of the station, the garage, and any other places they passed by that they thought was worth searching. On their journey there was no such thing as too much food, water, or tools. If their cars couldn't make the journey, then they were in trouble.

When they passed a Walmart they went inside. It was a mess and a lot of the store was nearly bare. But they did find clothes, some camp gear, axes and hatches, knives and other survival gear that they could all carry on their selves. It was actually Stiles's idea to go in, so when Rafael asked what he was looking for in particular, Stiles didn't answer until he found it.

BB guns. With amo. 

Their bullets were precious, but knowing how to use a gun properly was very important. Though Stiles and Rafael were properly trained given their previous jobs, Derek wasn't. Maybe Braeden gave him a few lessons years ago when he lost his powers for a while, but that was too long ago. Regardless of experience, keeping sharp and getting in some extra practice never hurt. 

* * *

 

Their journey was long and it wasn't without incident. There were plenty of times when they had to find side roads and bypasses due to the road being blocked by dozens of cars. Sometimes when they were in a hurry because of time or danger of too many Walkers, Derek would use his strength to clear a path. 

Sometimes Roscoe led the way with either Derek or Stiles driving, sometimes Rafael led the way. 

Stiles's relationship with Derek didn't become strained or awkward. Okay, well maybe slightly awkward when they were anywhere near affectionate in front of Rafael. But it didn't stop them. It wasn't even anything grand or obvious. Hand holding, sitting side by side without space between them, making sure the other takes care of themselves. 

Trouble also came in terms of scared people and looters. Luckily, between the three of them, they managed to keep most of their stuff. 

When they entered California, Stiles was driving the Jeep. They drove until Raf needed to sleep. They parked and Rafael slept in his car with the seat propped all the way back. Stiles made himself comfortable in the backseat. Meanwhile, Derek kept watched. 

When they were off again, Rafael led with the police cruiser. They were about half an hour away from Beacon when out of nowhere, the cruiser's wheels blew. The car swerved a bit but stopped before it ran off the road. 

Derek, who was driving Roscoe at the tome, slammed on the breaks. 

"What the hell!?" Stiles cried.

Using his werewolf eyes, Derek then saw the problem. "It's a spike strip."

Stiles frowned as he reached for his gun, "You think it's an ambush?"

"No idea..."

"Is Raf alright?" Stiles asked, trying to see. 

"Looks like it. His heart's beating fast, but I think that was just the surprise of it." Derek replied. 

Stiles watched as Rafael inspected his tires, cursed them and the strip from the look on his face, before sighing and coming over to the Jeep. Derek rolled down the window as Raf leaned in to speak to both of them. 

"If this was an ambush I think we'd be swarmed by now. I think this was just a security measure. What now?" The agent asked. 

"Grab what's important and head to Beacon on foot. Assess the situation and then come back for the rest?" Stiles suggested.

"Or. I can pull the spike strip away and move the car. We pack up the trunk and part of the backseat. With what we've been using and what we lost, there's room now." Derek offered. 

"We'll find a secure place to hide Roscoe once we're closer to the town. Try to be as discreet as possible." Rafael said. 

Then he headed to the cruiser to get whatever he needed. Derek and Stiles got out too. While Stiles helped Rafael place whatever was needed in the Jeep, Derek remove the spike strip and jogged down a while to try to make sure the rest of the road was clear. When he came back he nodded at the others, and when they nodded back that they were done, he used his strength to move the cruiser to the side to let the Jeep through. 

Stiles and Rafael were getting back in when they noticed Derek going rigid.

"What is it?" Rafael demanded, pulling his weapon out. 

When Stiles saw Derek pull his out too, he did the same. 

"What is it, Big Guy?" Stiles asked in a calm voice, though he was mentally panicking. He hadn't seen a Walker or dead body for a while now as they headed closer to home. It gave him hope that somehow the town was protected by some weird magic. 

"Footsteps."

The three of them huddled near the Jeep, using the open doors as shields.

"Anyway to tell how many?" Rafael asked.

Derek looked like he was concentrating, "A group. Not _that_ big. Four maybe. At least."

"Well, that's not that bad." Stiles commented.

"We talking people or Walkers?" Rafael asked. 

"Neither!" A voice called out. 

A voice Stiles hasn't heard in what seemed like an eternity. 

"Liam!?"

"Oh my god! It _is_ you! I knew it was your Jeep!" Liam came into view and Stiles ran out to meet him half way. They embraced tightly before pulling apart to examine each other. Both were older, naturally aged, but as well by the experience they've been through. 

"Stiles? Stiles _Stilinski_?"

Stiles looked over and saw Hayden. He smiled and even though he didn't know her as well, he pulled her into an embrace. Seeing familiar people was giving him a high like nothing else. 

The two others with them were people Stiles didn't recognize, but from Liam's outburst he came to the conclusion they were wolves. But that didn't really matter to him right now.

"Liam...are...are-" Stiles didn't think he could get the words out. He was so close. Close to home, to answers...but did he really want them?

The turmoil must have been clear on his face because Hayden placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled reassuringly, "Everyone in the pack is alive and fine."

That was enough to make his knees go weak. If Derek hadn't acted with his reflexes, Stiles would have fallen to the ground. But he wouldn't have minded. They were alive! He turned to Derek, tears in his eyes, and then he kissed him with all his might. When he pulled back, Stiles wiped his eyes and his cheeks, "You were right!"

Derek smiled, happy for Stiles. "Told you."

"Your family's alright too." Liam spoke.

When Derek looked at him with a raised eyebrow, Liam answered. 

"When shit hit the fan, Peter took off to find Cora. Braeden went with him. They were gone for a long time. For a while we just assumed the worst. But then they came back. All three of them."

This time it was Derek who was misty eyed and his throat constricted with emotion. Cora had been so far away, and Peter being Peter...

"And _my_ family?" Rafael asked, voice similar to Stiles's. Unsure if he wanted to learn the truth or not. 

" _Who_ are you?" Liam asked, confusion clear in his voice.

" _Stiles_! Derek!?...Dad?" The last part was more of a disbelieved whisper. 

All three newcomers turned to the speaker and saw none other than Scott McCall. 

* * *

After Scott hugged the hell out of the three of them, and yes, _all_ three, he threw his head back and howled.

Stiles hasn't seen Rafael so happy as when Scott seemed relieved and happy to see him alive. Stiles also knew that Scott and Rafael had been working on repairing their relationship, but there was still some tension there. A lot of it had to do with Scott being a werewolf and him and Melissa wanting to keep Raf out of the supernatural-know-how.

Scott led the way back, walking in between Rafael and Stiles, all the while hearing about their trip. Derek walked on Stiles's free side. Liam and Hayden drove the Jeep into Beacon.

They heard them before they saw them, with Beacon Hills coming more into view each step that they took.

" _Derek_?!"

 Derek never thought he would be so damn happy to hear Peter's voice. But when he saw his uncle, alive and well, he ran towards him and tackled him into a hug. 

"Derek!?" 

The wolf pulled back and saw Cora standing near the 'Welcome to Beacon Hills' sign looking at him with disbelief. If Derek's eyes welled up with tears at seeing Peter, streams of water made it down his cheeks when his sister lunged herself at him. He caught her in mid air and spun her around.

"You're alive!" She cried into his neck. 

"Yeah...I am. And you are too! And you're home!" Derek exclaimed.

"Peter came to get me..." She muttered against his neck, unwilling to let go. Derek saw Peter standing there, slightly awkward. Derek felt it too. They were Hales. Calm, cool, and collected. Emotions weren't their forte...but that was in the old world. In this one...you counted each blessing you got, and cherished it. He held his hand out to Peter, who joined them in their hug. 

From his place standing next to Scott and Raf, Stiles watched with a smile on his face. It never really occurred to him, and he's mentally kicking himself for it, that Derek thought part of his remaining family wouldn't be here. Stiles lost his smile as he wondered if Derek would have left after dropping Stiles off. Of course he would have, he told himself. For Cora. 

With their budding relationship, Stiles was very positive that he would go with Derek to help him. It would be dangerous and if his father was alive(which he was, thank god!) it would have been a painstaking moment as the decision was made. 

Luckily, it seems like Derek's family was safe and accounted for. 

"Is it true? Is it him!?" A voice asked desperately. 

A voice that had Stiles frozen in place. From the side he saw Scott smile widely like an idiot. But Stiles didn't pay it too much mind. His legs seemed to work on their own. "Dad? Dad!"

"STILES!?"

"DAD!"

They ran towards each other, and they were in each other's sights, they broke out into tears and kept running until they crashed into each other. His dad's grip was really strong. Like..really, _really_ strong. But Stiles figure it was just his own fatigue and exhaustion and minimal food. 

"Oh my god, you're alive!" The Sheriff muttered like a prayer as he pulled Stiles into a long caring embrace. 

* * *

 

"Here, eat up. You must be starving." His dad said lovingly as he placed a plate in front of him. 

Stiles was so used to eating out of cans and making them last as long as possible, that seeing a ham sandwich with tomatoes and lettuce plus other things had him breaking down a bit. 

"Stiles?" His dad asked gently. 

Wiping his eyes, Stiles apologized. "I'm sorry....I just...this seems too normal, ya know? Coming home. The house being in one piece with all our pictures still up. An actually good looking sandwich with fresh ingredients? It's...it's been a really long time." He picked up the sandwich and took a bite. It was almost ridiculous to think a sandwich of all things could make him break down, but there he was...crying. 

His dad didn't seem bothered by it and just sat down next to him and held him close. Stiles felt like he was 10 again. He'd just lost his mom and it was hard to make a connection with anyone. So his father put his efforts into something small. Moments that would tie them closer in the long run. 

This was just like that. 

As much as Stiles wanted to go see all of his friends, they were all busy. Not surprising. With the zombie apocalypse shaking the world up, new rules came in place. Every able bodied person had to put in their weight with their group.

While Stiles went home (his actual childhood home!), Rafael went with Scott to find Melissa. Derek went off with Cora and Peter. All of them agreeing to meet up for dinner.

Looking out the window, Stiles saw something he hadn't seen in too long.

Children playing. People out on bikes without using them to get away from danger. He heard laughter and cries of fun instead of shrieks of terror.

"I can't imagine what horrors you've seen out there..." His dad said solemnly.

Stiles looked away from the window to his dad. He smiled sadly as he nodded. "Yeah...it's been bad." Then he frowned as he looked back outside, "Aren't they afraid of random Walkers passing by?"

"There aren't any Walkers in Beacon Hills." The Sheriff said.

Now he had _all_ of Stiles's attention. "You sound... _really_ sure."

"Because I am. When you have a Banshee and Hell Hound, creatures associated with death...you're kinda sure." The Sheriff replied.

"I...Okay, I'm going to need an explanation." Stiles said.

The Sheriff nodded, "I figured. Alright...sit down and get comfy. It's a complicated story."

* * *

"When the first Walkers began to rise, we thought...hey, it's just Beacon Hill's next supernatural adventure." His dad began as he passed Stiles a bottle of water.

Stiles accepted it with a nod. He figured it would be like that. Derek told him the same thing.

"We tried to maintain it, find the source, or a cure. But things just happened so fast...it was insane. The hospital became a hot zone. Army personnel showed up with too heavy a gun fire, and that's when we realized that it wasn't just here. And from the last pieces of television we had, it wasn't just some small town problem." There was a pause and Stiles saw it clearly. His dad was having flash backs to those horrible moments. They all had them. They all knew where they were, what they were doing, what their last bit of normality was before everything went to hell.

"Chaos followed quickly. Walkers were all over and unlike the black and white movies, these things were faster than we'd like. Our people, the pack, were torn in focus at first. Some of us wanted to secure a location. Fortify it and make it a safe haven. Others wanted to help anyone we could."

"The first couple of weeks were like the first couple of minutes in the beginning of any Hunger Games near the Cornucopia." Stiles said.

His dad nodded. "Just as bloody and painful."

"What happened next?"

"Insanity...in all sort of ways. Trying to find a safe location, food and water, tools and gear. Fighting each other for survival and the panic it brought. Typical  end of the world stuff...but then there was _our_ added bonuses..." His father paused again for a moment. "Lydia, the poor soul, had the worst of it. Her powers were being assaulted too much and frequently. Despite her learning how to control her powers, when this happened she went back to wondering around in that dazed trance of hers. Parrish too. He was blacking out again, his Hell Hound taking over for days, maybe even weeks at a time."

Stiles frowned slightly, being confused. "How _did_ the zombie apocalypse affect a Banshee and a Hell Hound?" 

"Lydia was nearly driven past the point of insanity. She had to spend a lot of time in her grandmother's cabin in that quiet room."

"How did...how did she get better? I mean, she got better right?" Stiles asked with concerned for his friend. 

The Sheriff nodded. "Deaton and Morrell came up with ways to... _hush_ the voices. They couldn't cancel them out completely with the outbreak, but...it made it manageable. The rest was Lydia's determination and stubbornness. When that happened...we took it among ourselves to take back our town."

"...how?" Stiles asked, curiously.

"Lydia sensed the Walkers, much like she sensed dead bodies in the past. Parrish too. He was immune to their biting. Whenever any of them tried, he'd... _flame on_! And more than ever did his protectiveness of Lydia show itself. So even if it's highly believed she too is immune to the infection, we've thankfully never had to test that theory. Anyway...Lydia would be the one who mostly sensed them. She'd scream and attract hoards of them at a time. When they appeared she'd use her Banshee Cry and...well, _kill_ them. Parrish would come along and then... _burn_ them with the fires of Hell."

"Alright...and then?"

"Through panic and nightmares, the people of Beacon Hills learned about werewolves. But seeing as the werewolves were on their side, they more or less accept it. Some more easily than others. But with the help of Melissa, Satomi, Scott, Chris, myself, and other leaders and role models, we obtained enough authority and calmness to get people to do as we said. Rounding up everyone alive we could find, we made sure they were safe and kept busy. Chores to keep up productivity, supplies, and make sure they were out of the way while those who were... _trained_ , let's say, went out and dealt with the Walkers. Hospitals, funeral homes, and other places were dead bodies were being kept were a nuisance. But maybe not as much as rounding up individual ones who just...wondered from anywhere. But super sense of smell was easy to track them down. We did plenty of sweeps before we deemed the town Walker-Free.

"Then came building the wall. We used cars, appliances, any form of debris that happened in the chaos. We built a wall around Beacon, blocked all the entrances. We used normal meas like traps and trip wires connected to bells and other noisy things to alert us of arrivals. We also used magic. But..."

"But?" Stiles pressed.

"These things were a science experiment gone wrong. Not a magic. According to Deaton, there is no herb or store or mixture there of that'll keep them out." His dad explained.

Stiles was quiet for a moment as he took in everything. For so long he's had to worry about surviving and getting home, he didn't have time to question what was the cause of it. The very thing he would have tried to do with anything supernatural back home. 

"Hey..." The Sheriff called out gently, snapping Stiles out of his thoughts. "Too much thinking soon after getting home won't do you any good. How about some rest?"

Stiles frowned but nodded, deciding that his dad was right. "Yeah, I could use a nap."

"You'll need it when everyone else comes to bombard you with hugs." The Sheriff said with a happy smile. "Room's just like you left it."

That made Stiles smile. To think he'll go back to his room, to his things...it was surreal. 

* * *

 

Stiles was looking through old photo albums when Derek climbed through his window. He pushed the photos aside as he got up from the bed and went to Derek. He was smiling wildly as he wrapped his arm around the werewolf's neck. "That brings back memories."

Derek gave him a small smile and nodded. "Yeah...how are you?"

Taking a very deep breath, Stiles replied. "Adrenaline's winding down. Everything is so weird...I hear people laughing, I'm not smelling rotting corpses, my friends and family are alive! I...it'll take a while before I get used to it. And well...I...I don't know if I want to." He frowned before asking Derek. "Does that make sense?"

"Of course it. Things are good here, but outside? As much as we want to be optimistic...Rome wasn't built in a day, but it did fall in one."

Stiles rested his head on Derek's shoulder and pulled him close. Derek returned the embrace and just breathed in the clean air with Stiles's scent adding an extra level of comfort.

"How about you?" Stiles asked. 

"It's weird being back." Derek said, then paused, "The House is rebuilt. Not it's former glory but still very well done. Malia is close to Peter and Cora now...it's..."

"Surreal?" Stiles questioned.

"Yeah..." Derek agreed, unsure of what else to call it. 

They held each other close for a while. Then Stiles pulled Derek towards the bed and began to kiss him. Derek kissed back but when Stiles tried to spark up more passion, Derek stopped him. 

"Wh-what's wrong?" Stiles panted. 

"Your dad's home." Derek pointed out the same way Stiles pointed out that Rafael was still in the station when they first got together. 

"So?" Stiles asked as he tried to kiss him again.

"He'll hear us." Derek argued lightly. 

"We'll be quiet...he won't hear us from downstairs."

This time when Derek pulled back, it was with serious intent. He looked at Stiles with a curious stare before his eyes widened and he said, "You don't know yet." 

"Know yet? Know what?"

"Stiles...you and McCall are the only humans in Beacon." Derek told him. 

Stiles just started at Derek for a while before he shook his head, "You saw my dad. And Melissa is alive and so is Chris-"

"Stiles...why do you think Beacon is as flourishing and successful as it is during the apocalypse?" Derek asked slowly.

Stiles shook his head, not wanting to believe it. "Our pack is awesome. It's...it's...it's just _not_ possible."

"Stiles-"

"Do you realize how...how improbable that is?!"

"As much as a world wide zombie invasion?" Derek asked weakly. 

"I just...I..."

*knock knock knock*

Stiles turned to the door as it opened and his father stepped in. 

"Stiles...there's something we should talk about." 

"What?" Stiles asked weakly. 

The Sheriff shared a look with Derek before looking at his son. "I wanted to give you time to rest and adjust, but I supposed it is something you can't get far without noticing."

"And that is...?" 

In response, the Sheriff flashed his eyes. Werewolf gold. 

* * *

 "I don't understand. What happened? Were you _hurt_? Were you _sick_? Were you...were you...were you _infected_?" Stiles asked horrified. 

The Sheriff shook his head. "No, Stiles. It wasn't anything like that."

"Then what!?" Stiles demanded as he stood up. 

They'd gone downstairs to the living room. While the Sheriff sat in the armchair, Stiles and Derek too the sofa. 

Derek grabbed Stiles's hand and pulled him back onto the couch. "Listen..." Derek urged. 

"I asked for it." The Sheriff told them. 

"What?!" Stiles shrieked, bolting up again. He paced a bit, running his hands through his hair, pulling a bit at the ends. "You...you _asked_ for the Bite? Voluntarily? You volunteered to become a werewolf?"

"Yes. Like many others." The Sheriff said calmly.

"Others? You mean like everyone else apparently!" Stiles cried out before collapsing into his seat again.

"Not everyone is a wolf." His dad said.

"Right. Were-coyotes, were-foxes, were-jaguars, were- _dragons_ , I'm sure are all out and about!" Stiles exclaimed. He grabbed one of the throw-pillows and groaned into it. Then he let it fall onto his lap. "How the hell does an entire town lose it's humanity? What's wrong with being human!?"

"Nothing." His dad and Derek replied at the same time. 

"Then why did you become a wolf!?" Stiles demanded, begging to understand. "Why did Melissa? Or Deaton? Or Chris!" 

"Deaton's not a wolf. But he is a Druid. There are magic users. They...they would qualify as humans, but they're trained in...non-human things. Readings, psychic energy, magic circles." His father said. 

Stiles looked at him for a solid minute before asking, "Alphas. If most of the town are were-creatures...who's the reigning Alpha? Scott?"

"The population here may be larger than any other place you've come across but our numbers still are low. But no, not all wolves answer to Scott. Beacon has three Alphas. Scott, Satomi, and Deucalion. We only have one Banshee and one Hell Hound, two Kitsunes, a small enough coven of magic users with different specialties, and of course...were-creatures."

"How the hell did all this happen? Becoming a wolf is serious business. Training a single teenage one is hella hard work!"

The Sheriff sighed and leaned back into his seat, "It started with Chris. It was around the time we manage to get _some_ control over Beacon. Lydia was recovering in the quiet room with Parrish standing guard. Everyone knew the risks and...and we all agreed that we wouldn't let anyone become... _that_."

Stiles knew what his dad meant immediately. It's probably one of the hardest conversations to have with anyone, but more so a friend or loved one. He's had it with Rafael after one too many close calls. 

 _'Don't let me be like that. I know I've been called a monster one time or another, but please don't let me actually become one.'_ Rafael had begged. Stiles agreed, only if the favor was returned. 

"Gerard was bitten. He didn't let anyone know...He locked himself up, which wasn't weird because no one really liked him. But not seeing him for too long was weird and Chris went to check up on him." The Sheriff paused, his eyes far away. Back to that moment. "Chris put his father down. Bullet to the brain. But not before he was bitten too. Unlike Gerard though, Chris told us about it. He wanted one last day before being put down. With how noble he is, you know it wasn't a trick or something. He would accept his fate."

"Then what happened?" Stiles asked quietly, more calmly. 

"We were all horribly saddened of course. He was a strong individual. Hard working. Brave. Someone who knew how to calm the masses in times of panic, with experience that Scott has learned from." The Sheriff said.

"Was it Scott who bit him?" Stiles asked.

The Sheriff shook his head, "No. Scott respected Chris's wishes."

"So Deucalion? Why?" Stiles asked after he guessed.

"He never did say...but a theory going is that he was trying to make amends for his time with the Alpha Pack. He held a lot of anger towards the Argents. Rightly so, I suppose. But with the end of the world, everything changed in meaning. Either it became more or it become nothing. What better way to get over the anger of being blinded by a man than saving his son and turning him into the thing he hates most?"

"Poetic..." Stiles deadpanned. But then snapped into attention. "Wait...does this mean that the Bite cures this thing?"

Derek too, paid more attention to this. But then the Sheriff crushed their hope as he shook his head. "Not exactly. Naturally, we didn't want to risk getting Scott or any other wolf near an actual Walker. Through some tests, Deaton manage to extract some werewolf venom from Scott's fangs. We injected it into a newly awoken Walker...at first we thought it was doing it. It patched up the wounds a bit but the body was still cold and rigid from rigor mortis. But they were still...zombies."

"But the Bite fixed Chris?" Derek asked. 

"Deucalion is many things. I wouldn't go as far as genius, but thorough is something I would call him. He bit Chris and thought the bite took, the zombie wound...was slow in healing. So Deucalion injected Wolves Bane into the affected area. Then he waited."

"For the Wolves Bane to run it's course and burn through the zombie disease. Once Wolves' Bane enters a wolf..." Derek began.

"It'll over power just about anything and it seems to ring true for even this. Anyway, after about twenty minutes or half an hour, Deucalion burned the Wolves Bane out. We watched over him, kept him under control while teaching him control. He spent a good month under surveillance before it was deemed that he would come through." The Sheriff said. "After that, the injured that wouldn't be fully healed or would become handicapped in a way that would hinder the group rather than help it, got the bite. The sick too. There was a kid who had severe asthma and there was no more medicine to help. We knew how dangerous new wolves were, so it only happened once a month. But then more and more depending on the situation. We expressed the risk of getting the Bite. It could take, but it could also fail."

"And you? When did you decide you wanted the Bite?" Stiles asked his father.

"When the people I was responsibly for were in great peril every day, amo was low, so was food and water. I was older than I wanted to admit, and my health even before the apocalypse wasn't at 100%. I was someone the people trusted and looked up to. Scott did great, but the older people were skeptical. Giving up our humanity wasn't something so easily done, Stiles. There was conflict and turmoil and trouble. Some _did_ die from the Bite. Some had to be turned down because they were too weak already. Or too hostile as humans. _Change_ was happening. I couldn't ignore it. I tried my hardest to resist the choice but...I needed to be at my strongest."

Stiles sat back, contemplating his father's answer in his head. Derek meanwhile took up asking questions. 

"Have you learned anything else regarding lycanthropy and this thing?"

"Werewolves aren't invulnerable to this. Walkers have killed some of our wolves. The only thing is that wolves don't come back." The Sheriff answered.

"What do you mean?" Derek asked.

"Wolves bitten by walkers just stay dead. It happened to one our teenagers. Parrish was away on one of his hunting trips, one of the few with permission to leave the city that far. Those who knew about it, wanted to keep it quiet. Family of the poor lad. They kept waiting and waiting but...he just didn't wake up again."

"Could be like when the Nogitsune incident. You can't be one thing when you're already another. A human acts as a base for anything, but if you're a wolf or Banshee or something else...you're not allowed to become something else by nature. Which, thank god. I mean Werewolf Zombies?" Stiles shuddered at the thought. 

* * *

  


"What are you thinking?" Stiles asked quietly as he rested half on top of Derek. 

They were in Stiles's room, the Sheriff out to do his own chores and rounds. The rest of the pack meeting up later. They had a lot of think about and think over. 

"Nothing." Derek replied quietly. 

"Come on, Sourwolf. I know your brow signals. There's something on your mind...something you want to share but don't know how to." Stiles teased slightly. 

Derek smiled slightly but then it fell. "I want you to consider it."

Stiles tensed. He knew what Derek meant and though it seemed rational to consider, Stiles has always been very secure in his humanity. Being the human of the pack was always his thing and he did it amazingly. 

Sensing Stiles's struggle, Derek was quick to speak. "I don't mean it right away. I just want you to really think it over. Look around the people here when we're out and see all that's been done."

"I know how Werewolves are, Derek. I know the benefits and I know the consequences. What's wrong with me being human?" Stiles asked desperately. 

" _Nothing_! I just... _your father_ decided to take the Bite. Melissa. Lydia's mom..."

" _Exactly_! Everyone is a werewolf or something here. Beacon is _safe_! I don't _need_ the Bite! We've got food and water and shelter here. We're good. We're safe." Stiles argued.   


"We were safe in Albany. We had all those things in the outskirts of Chicago. We were good in Lawrence. Until we weren't." Derek said steadily. Stiles didn't seem at all convinced or moved and Derek sighed, "I'm not saying you do. I'm just saying...think about it, okay? I don't want to fight, Stiles. I just want us to consider all the options."

* * *

   


*One Month Later*

"Hey, man. How's it going?" Scott asked as he opened the door.

Stiles looked frazzled, tense, skiddish. 

"Stiles?" Scott called out him.

"What's out there..." Stiles said, looking out towards the directions where the 'entrance' was. "It's hell."

Scott nodded solemnly. "I know."

"I want to protect this place. Keep it from harm. But...I am human. It's what I know. It's what I want. So...unless I'm dying and can be saved by the Bite, those are my choices. I don't want to be a Walker, but I want to remain human as long as possible."

Scott nodded at him, smiling slightly. "Okay. I respect those choices, and the others will too. I'm really had to have you back dude. I've really missed my sarcastic human best friend."

Stiles let out a breath he was holding, and hugged Scott. "I've missed you too."

"Come on, the rest of the pack will be here in an hour and I need help with lunch." Scott said.

"The world ends with a zombie apocalypse and I'm having lunch and afternoon tea with werewolves...what even is my life?"

* * *

Fin 

  



End file.
